What Now
by jolly-green-moose
Summary: Set directly after Sam jumps in the pit. Apocalypse diverted, Dean starts to wonder what to do with his life now that everything is over. When Bobby is resurrected along with an all too human Cas and newly sprung Sam, they all begin to wonder just who could have done it and why. Eventual Dean/Cas.
1. Chapter 1

There are many times in a man's life when he finds himself contemplating his future. Dean just so happened to be thinking about just that as he stared down at the grass in front of him. The same patch of grass that had just so recently been a giant hole in the ground that he just saw his little brother take the swan dive into, along with who happened to be the Archangel Michael. He has done so many things in his life, he's killed hundreds of monsters and demons, including the one that killed both his parents, saved countless people, and hell he has now even stopped the God damn apocalypse. But as he sat there on the grass in the middle of that godforsaken cemetery, a single thing ran through his mind: "What now?"

Sam was gone. Bobby was gone. Cas was...well...in bits and pieces. He was all by himself, starring down at the same patch of grass. His face hurt like a bitch and he was pretty sure a few of his teeth are loose, but the rest of him just felt numb. It didn't quite feel real. Had all of that really happened?

He didn't know how long he'd been sitting there but he figured long enough because the sky was starting to darken and his legs had fallen asleep and were screaming at him to get up and move. He shakily climbed to his feet and as he stood he noticed something he didn't before, something glinting in the setting sun. The rings.

Hesitantly, he staggered over and picked them up, twirling them around in his fingers. Again the question that went through his head was: "What now?"

He looked over his shoulder to see Bobby's still form and the bloody patch of grass that was once Cas.

A few hours later, the fire from the Hunter's Funeral he gave Bobby was dying down as he walked back to his Baby. Upon inspection it was only little banged up from his little throw down with Lucifer (Dean being the one that was thrown). Later, he decided, he'll fix her up later. Still, he was numb. No tears, no sobbing, no cursing God's name, well actually he was doing that, but the point was, he felt like something was off. He had every right to be laying on the ground in the fetal position crying his eyes out like a little girl, but he wasn't. Instead he climbed into the impala, radio off, and just drove.

He didn't think about where he was going, despite the constant chorus of 'what now' playing through his head, he just picked a direction and drove. After a few hours he pulled over at a cheap motel, paid for a double room (force of habit), and sat down on the corner of the bed closest to the door (another habit from years of following the mantra of "protect Sammy").

He pulled out a bottle of Hunter's Helper that he bought the day before out of his duffle, he didn't bother to find a glass. It wasn't that he really had felt the need to drink himself under the table, but he decided he might as well, after all it was tradition after a horrible Winchester-grade tragedy, and today he lost his brother, his adoptive father, and his best friend, everyone he had left. It didn't take long before Dean was passed out on the end of the bed, lack of sleep and watching your whole family die within the span of a few minutes will do that to you.

4 hours of sleep and a wicked hangover later Dean was back on the road again. He didn't have anywhere else to go so he set course for Sioux Falls, South Dakota.


	2. Chapter 2

The drive to Bobby's house was long but Dean didn't stop for anything but an occasional refuel and cup of gas station coffee. He tried not to feel the stares of the people around him when he went in to pay, he knew he looked rough, he could feel the ache weighing his head down and he was sore all over. In Dean's mind there was no time to rest or take it easy, he had to keep driving; something in him told him that he must get to Bobby's. He didn't know why, but after a while of dealing with crazy shit, you just learn to trust gut instinct.

As he stared out at the open road he could feel the weight of the horsemen's' rings in his jacket pocket. He thought about what to do with them, even contemplated tossing them just so he wouldn't have to be reminded of what happened. He found himself unable to do it - after all, once he got his head cleared he might need them; if they got Sam into Hell, maybe they can get him out.

He pushed those thoughts aside and decided to just focus on the road, it was better not to think. It was just too fresh, he decided, and the only reason he wasn't a quivering mess on the floor was that he must be in shock, that or after everything that he's been through he finally just broke; either way he wasn't going to risk having a nervous breakdown, not now while he was driving, and definitely not without some booze...let's face it, a lot of booze.

Sometime in the middle of the night, towards the early morning, Dean pulled into the drive way of Bobby Singer's house on the outskirts of Sioux Falls.

He killed the engine and sat there without getting out, staring over at the front door. No lights were on. Of course no lights were on, Bobby was dead, and he should know because he just burned his god damn body. Though he knew no one would be home, he couldn't shake the feeling that if he went in, he'd find Bobby sitting behind the desk of his in the study, book in one hand and a glass of Jack in the other.

Not knowing how long he sat there, Dean eventually climbed out of the Impala and marched up the front steps. He paused at the door, hand inches away from the doorknob.

Dean knew when he went chasing after Lucifer for Sam, that he might not make it, hell he almost expected to die. And through all the talk about dying while trying to stop the world from going down the toilet, Dean hadn't ever thought that out of all of them, he'd be the one to survive. What was he supposed to do now? He didn't have a life outside of hunting and everyone he knew was dead.

If Sam were to be the one to have survived, he would've moved on. Sam would've been able to create a life for himself. Sam didn't need hunting like Dean did. In fact Sam had gotten out of the life; that is until Dean dragged him back kicking and screaming because he was too chicken shit to face all of it alone. Sam never needed Dean like Dean needed Sam.

Pulling himself away from his thoughts, Dean took a deep breath and opened the door slowly. He stood in the doorway, still unsure whether to face the emptiness of Bobby's old house, but after driving so long, the promise of a warm bed called him inside.

He walked past the stairs to the study and stopped dead at the doorway. There was someone on the couch, facing the cushions, a man. Dean immediately grabbed the demon knife from his side and inched toward the person. Once he got close enough he could tell that whoever it was, they were breathing, perhaps asleep. Grabbing the man by the shoulder, knife at the ready, he flipped the intruder on his back. Dean's sudden sharp intake of breath and the man's sleepy groan filled the room when Dean saw the familiar face and tired bright blue eyes that he had found himself unable to look away from time and time again.

"Cas?"


	3. Chapter 3

**I would like to apologize for my awful writing in the last few chapters, it was late at night and I didn't read them over too carefully so I didn't realize how all over the place I was with my tenses (this is the first fic I've ever written). So if you haven't already, please go back and re-read the other chapters, I've changed a few things that might be important. Anyway, sorry for the inconvenience and I hope that everyone is enjoying what I'm writing.**

"Dean?" Cas answered back, voice gruffer than usual as he looked up at him with tired, confused eyes.

Dean dropped the knife.

"H-how...?" Dean felt his throat constrict and his chest tighten. He cleared his throat and continued. "How are you alive?"

The hand that gripped Cas's shoulder fell away as Cas started to sit up on the couch. Once he was upright, Cas's eyebrows knitted together in frustration and confusion.

"I don't know." Cas said finally. He sighed and swung his legs over the side of the couch and stood up in one quick motion. Cas's legs gave out and Dean barely managed to catch him in time as he tumbled toward the floor. He hoisted Cas up by the arms and pushed him back into the couch cushions with a worried expression on his face.

"It appears that there is something wrong with my legs," Cas said with a tired huff.

"Well you did just wake-" Dean started to say but then cut off, eyes going wide when he realized just what was happening. "Dude...a-are you...human?"

Cas peered down at his hands, flexing them, his expression blank. His hands curled into fists as he rested his head back against the cushions and stared at the ceiling.

"Yes. I believe I am."

Dean backed up a few steps and rubbed his hand over his face, the thing Winchester's do when the whole world is crashing down around them. Cas was alive…and human.

"Well…fuck."

"Indeed." Cas leaned forward, looking very tired and rigid.

A thought occurred to Dean, if Cas was alive, who else was?

"Bobby, Sam..." Dean whispered. Cas looked up at him confused, his head tilted to the side in the way that always made Dean think of a lost puppy.

"Hold on, Cas. I'll be right back. I gotta check something." Before Cas could say anything Dean hurried out of the room towards the downstairs bedroom. It was empty. He raced up stairs to the other rooms. All empty. Finally he trekked down into the basement and opened the heavy iron door of the panic room. Empty.

Cas was leaning in the doorway of the basement when Dean reached the foot of the steps, head hung low.

He looked up at Cas, noticing for the first time that he was no longer wearing the tan trench coat and black suit that Dean had come to associate with the angel. Instead the now human Castiel was wearing only a white tee-shirt and gray sweatpants that were way too big, his bare toes barely peeking out from underneath the folds of fabric.

Dean walked up the stairs and paused in front of Cas. "Looks like we're alone."

Cas nodded, his expression calm and calculating and followed Dean as Dean walked past him to the study. He looked at the clock, it was 4:03 a.m.

He sat down next to Bobby's desk and poured himself a drink. Cas stood in middle of the room watching Dean. "Your face... you're hurt," Cas said as he walked over to Dean.

"Oh yeah, guess I got beat up pretty good." Having forgotten about his face, he reached up and touched it, wincing in pain. Castiel raised his hand almost about to touch the other man's face when he froze, dropped his hand and frowned. He wasn't an angel anymore, he couldn't do anything about Dean's injuries. Castiel took a few steps away, unsure what to do with himself.

Dean sighed and set down his glass. He walked behind Cas and clapped his hand on his shoulder. He wasn't sure what to say to him, all he kept thinking was that he was alive, Cas was alive and maybe somewhere out there Sam and Bobby were too. He didn't know who he should be thanking. God? No. Dean probably wouldn't thank God for anything for as long as he lived.

Cas turned around to face him, the expression on his face more human than Dean had ever seen. He found it very unsettling. It occurred to Dean that he had no idea what Cas must be going through. What was it like to be a being so powerful and invincible and have all that stripped away from you?

Dean tried to force a smile but was hindered by the pain in his face. "Come on, better catch some shut eye. I've been on the road all day, I could probably use a few hours. We'll figure everything out tomorrow."

Cas remained silent.

He pushed Cas toward one of the upstairs bedrooms that were never used, Sam and Dean always preferring to sleep on the ground floor where it was easier to defend against intruders. Once Cas was seated on the bed, he went to the hall closet and grabbed an old ratty comforter and tossed it to him. Cas sat there staring down at the blanket in his arms. Dean couldn't stop himself from thinking how broken he looked, but he pushed the thought away because he knew how something like that might affect Cas. He patted him on the back once more, the only gesture he could offer because he sure as hell wasn't going to sit down on the bed and hug the guy like some girl in chick-flick and talk about feelings. He sighed and walked over to the door.

"Just try to get some sleep, Cas," Dean said as he gave Cas a tired, concerned look and started to close the door. He felt like he was putting to bed a sick child, not a grown man that used to be an all-powerful Angel of the Lord.

"Dean."

He froze, door still slightly open.

"Yeah?"

Cas looked up from the blanket with a determined stare. "We'll find them."

Dean nodded, gave him a tight smile, the same one that he used when he was pretending he wasn't scared, which he was sure Cas recognized. He gave Cas one last look and slipped back out into the hall, closing the door behind him.


	4. Chapter 4

**Just to let everyone know, I will try to update as much as I can. I'm a university student so its a bit difficult for me to write during the week, but I will definitely try to post at least one or two chapters on the weekend if I can depending on how busy I am. You're only getting one chapter this weekend because I'm sick but I just might have another up this week sometime and definitely next weekend. Anyways, thanks for reading!**

Dean managed to get in a few hours of sleep in before he was woken up by a large crash, almost like an explosion, and a loud yell.

"DEEAAAN!"

Dean scrambled out of bed, knife in hand and ran towards Cas's room. As he reached the door it flung open to reveal a scared, frantic Cas, hair messier than usual.

"Cas, what's going on?!" Dean said, deflating a little after seeing that Cas was alright. Cas stepped back from the door and grabbed Dean's shirt pulling him inside. Surprised by the sudden assault, Dean stumbled and flipped around to face Cas.

"What the-" Cas cut him off.

"Dean, look!" Flipping Dean around, he gave the hunter an exasperated look and pointed to the large figure lying on the floor. It was Sam. Immediately Dean launched towards him.

"Sammy!" Dean flipped his brother over and felt around for a pulse, he was alive. He grabbed hold of Sam's shoulders and gave him a hard shake. "Sam! Sammy! Come on, man, wake up!" Sam remained still. Panicking, Dean looked up at Cas. "Cas, what's wrong with him, why isn't he waking up?!"

Cas, who was standing right over them, shoulders set and rigid, shook his head. "I don't know, Dean." Just then another loud explosion-like noise came from downstairs.

"What the fuck..." Dean muttered and jumped up once again. "Stay here with Sam," he ordered Cas as he picked up the knife once more and cautiously hurried down the stairs.

Once he reached the study he stopped dead. "Bobby?"

There Bobby stood staring at the floor, looking exactly the way he did the last time Dean saw him, except maybe a little less dead. Bobby looked up at him, bewildered by where he was and how he got there. Dean stepped forward. "Bobby," he said again. "That is you in there, right?"

"Don't be stupid, boy, of course it's me. All I'm wonderin' is how the hell I got here. Last thing I remember was standing in that damned graveyard and that angel of yours exploding like a water balloon, then nothin'."

Dean did his signature hand-down-the-face. First Cas, then Sam, now Bobby, what the hell is going on? One moment everyone he loves is dead, the next, some mysterious force is springing them back up like they're god damn perennials. "Yeah well there's a reason for that, Bobby, you died. Lucifer snapped your neck like a toothpick." Dean tucked the knife in his belt and sighed. Bobby gave him a startled look that quickly turned to anger.

"I swear, boy, if you did what I think you did I'll have to-"

"No, Bobby! No! Of course not. I'm just as surprised to find you here as you are." Bobby straightened up and huffed.

"Good." The old hunter crossed his arms. "Now that that's cleared up, if you didn't bring me back then who did?"

"Yeah, that's exactly what I'd like to know. And you're not the only one that's back, Bobby." Bobby's brow furrowed in skepticism.

"Oh yeah?" At that opportune moment, Cas descended down the stairs and arrived at the doorway, looking mildly surprised when he spotted Bobby. Upon seeing a man that he recently saw explode back from the dead, Bobby dropped his arms and stared at him, mouth a gape. Dean whipped around to face the former angel.

"Cas, I thought I told you to stay with Sam." Cas sucked his lip in his mouth in that quick unnoticeable way that never fails to grasp Dean's attention.

"He isn't responding to anything. For all intents and purposes, Sam is comatose." Dean's face visibly fell but quickly hardened into that intense, angry glare that he gets when he hears something he doesn't like and it scares the ever-loving-shit out of him.

"What do you mean he's comatose?" Dean yelled. Cas's face remained stoic except for a slight frown.

"Wait a sec here, just what the hell happened after my lights went out?" Bobby jumped in.

"Well I got the shit beat out of me," Dean said gesturing to his bruised and swollen face. "And then Sammy was able to get his noodle back long enough to grab Michael and jump in the hot box." Dean rubbed the back of his head and looked longingly towards the stairs, anxious to get back to Sam.

"And after?"

"What do you think, Bobby? I did the only thing I could. I burned your body and took off, drove till I couldn't see anymore. After a night of holding up in a hotel I turned around and drove all the way here. I got here last night and found Cas passed out on the couch. And moments before you popped in, Sam landed in Cas's room."

Bobby was about to open his mouth to ask something but Dean silenced him.

"Don't ask me why because I don't fucking know. All I know is something big is working this because I'm pretty sure no plain demon or angel could bust Sammy out or bring Cas back."

"So what are we talking about here? You think maybe, I don't know, God could be behind this?"

"I don't know, Bobby. He hasn't done anything for us so far, hell he was going to let the goddamn apocalypse happen, why would he start caring now? And it still doesn't explain why my brother is in a damn coma."

Bobby shrugged and sighed. Cas was silent, staring down at the floor which made Dean feel a little bad about what he said but hell it was the truth. Dean sighed and turned and marched out of the room towards the stairs.

Sam was laying in the bed Cas had previously occupied, blankets drawn up. The creak of the old floorboards behind him alerted him to Cas's presence.

"I tried my best to get him to the bed, however in my diminished state it proved to be much more difficult than I had anticipated. Your brother is much heavier than he looks."

Dean snorted. "And that's saying something." He stared down at his brother's sleeping face, he looked peaceful enough. "Don't worry, Sammy. We'll figure something out, we always do, right?" As expected, no response came from Sam, not even a single twitch. Cas approached Dean, standing very close to his side like always.

"I am sorry I am unable to do anythin-"

"Stop." Dean turned around to face Cas. "You have nothing to be sorry for, man. You've already died for us..." Dean stopped and sighed. "Just...don't worry about it. Whoever's doing this will show himself sooner or later. Until then we'll have to just try anything and everything we can think of to wake Sam up, or at the very least try and figure out what's even wrong with him."

Cas gave him a long stare which Dean returned with yet another sigh. After a few moments, Dean broke the intense eye contact that had become all too frequent since the blue-eyed angel appeared in his life. He turned away and started toward the door.

"Come on. If we're going to go into serious research mode, I'm going to need a few more hours of sleep. You can have the other bed, I'll take the couch." Cas was about to protest but Dean waved him off and left the room. Cas sighed, a human expression he was becoming accustomed to, and followed Dean out into the hall, closing the door behind him.


End file.
